


In the name of Mother Nature

by justAperidot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, During a Business Meeting, Ecology, Flirting, Jesus - Freeform, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7042324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justAperidot/pseuds/justAperidot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is an environmental lawyer. He has more important things to do than meet eco-extremist Luke Novak, who is probably yet another angry teenager who stands under a big "Protect the Earth!" banner just so he can wreck things. Or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the name of Mother Nature

“Thanks, Becky.”

The secretary placed the filled-in schedule on Sam Winchester’s desk. The lawyer smiled at her before returning to the conversation on his phone.

“Yes, I understand,” Sam said absently. The client on the other end commented something about receipts, and the brunet promised he´d have them by Monday. Without truly listening anymore, he reached forward to take a look at the document Becky had given him. “Yes. Thank you. Goodbye, Mrs. Clarkson.” _Finally,_ he could hang up.

“Let’s see what we are facing today,” he muttered to himself.

Discuss reduction of waste with Clarkson & Co. Done.

Continue the defense of “Farmer Will’s Happy Squash”. Easy peasy.

Debate with the leader of the “Freelance Defenders of the Earth” (a.k.a. a bunch of eco-extremists). Oh. Dear. Gooood. _Why_.

Sam rubbed his face. He was _not_ in the mood to try to converse with some screaming teenager telling him he was doing his job wrong, only to end up losing his patience and yelling back that destroying private property wasn't very eco-friendly, either, thank you very much.

This was going to be a long day.

He wasn't even going to try to finish reading his schedule; it would only depress him even more.

******

Just as he’d thought, the trial against some squash-hating parents was a piece of cake and a success. Sam didn’t even need all the evidence he had prepared to prove that a) their kid had just been allergic to squash, b) there was no “hiding behind fake publicity” involved in Will’s farm, and c) seriously, Farmer Will’s Happy Squash was probably the most environmentally friendly business in Kansas, stop whining.

His happy buzz was killed when he remembered his next appointment.

Becky was waiting for him by his closed office door, which possibly meant the “leader” of the FDE was already inside. Great.

“Luke Novak is waiting for you, sir,” Becky confirmed and handed her boss a paper with the Topics to Discuss, complete with the guy’s name, email, and phone number. _CALMLY_ , Becky had written in big red letters next to the title. God, this girl knew him perfectly. Sam thanked her and opened the door to his office.

“So, Mr. Novak...”

Red alert. This is _not_ a teenager. I repeat, _not a teenager_.

The man sitting in front of his desk (and fiddling with one of his pencils) was at least the same age as Sam, or maybe even older. He had messy short hair, a shade of light blond that glimmered like gold, and piercing eyes like two bluish chips of ice.

Also, Luke Novak had obviously decided to dress for the occasion, unlike his fellow eco-extremists, for instead of torn jeans and black T-shirts, he was wearing an impeccable white suit. Sam couldn’t help but wonder how he kept it so freakishly clean.

“Yes?” the man asked after a pause.

Sam realized he had stopped halfway into his sentence and towards his desk. He cleared his throat, trying not to sound too awkward, as he lowered himself onto his chair. “Mr. Novak, I see you want to discuss-”

“Anything, really, considering that humans screw up anything within their reach.” Novak put down Sam’s pencil and smirked.

Oh-kaaaay. “I don't think that's true, but do continue.” If Becky had been there, she would've discreetly stepped on Sam’s foot. Good thing she wasn't.

Luke didn't seem bothered by Sam’s sharp tone. “I see that you are quite biased against “eco-extremists”,” He made air-quotes around the name, “like me.” Sam began to protest but the other man shrugged dismissively. “I understand. Some of my followers are indeed _extreme_. Lilith, in particular, can go too far from time to time.

_Followers_. Did this guy lead an ecologic group or a cult? “I'm guessing you are a gentleman of refined manners.” God, Becky was going to kill him. Then bring him back to life so Mr. Singer could fire his sorry ass.

Luke chuckled and raked a hand through his hair, making it messier. And sexier. Damn him. “If you want to put it that way, Sam, then yes, I am.” The lawyer knew it was a lost cause to even _try_ to ask the FDE leader to call him “Mr. Winchester”. “Anyway, as I was saying, I would be happy to discuss anything, but you would probably prefer to guide our chat with that little outline of yours.”

Sam tried really hard not to blush at Luke’s patronizing tone. Seeing that he was failing miserably, he half-hid his face behind the page Becky had given him. “The first thing here is, uh, MacLeod’s factory downtown.”

The Novak threw his head back with a groan. “Don't even get me started on that ass!” “Ass” wasn't precisely a proper word for a business meeting, but honestly, Sam didn't care anymore.

“You've met him?”

Luke made a face. “Yeah. I went to his factory one day. It was the most depressing thing I have ever seen.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You went to his factory? I’m guessing you weren't invited or anything like that.”

The blond's expression was now comically innocent. “It doesn't count as breaking and entering if you don't _break_ anything. Then it's just entering. That's what I told him when I ran into him in my self-guided tour of his kingdom. I even suggested a motto to hang under the big “MacLeod” sign over the front door. I don't think he liked it.”

Sam couldn't contain an unprofessional snicker. “What did you suggest?”

“‘Abandon all hope, ye who enter here’.” Dante’s Inferno. Nice. The brunet added “cultured” to his mental list of Luke’s qualities. Not that he was counting them or anything.

They continued their friendly banter, at first guiding themselves with Sam’s “little outline”, but soon the document was forgotten as new topics developed from others. Luke constantly found a way to insult the human species in general, and Sam always tried to retort with something that showed that there were more good humans than there were bad ones. The leader of the FDE listened to most of his arguments without making a face, but it slowly became obvious that even the faces were good-natured and he was starting to agree with Sam. Score.

A knock on the door interrupted their discussion on how much wind power Kansas could supply if the government gave the issue a second thought. “Sorry,” Sam apologized with a smile, then called towards the closed door, “Come in!”

Becky poked her head in. She stared in confusion at Luke for a second, probably wondering why Sam hadn't kicked him out ages ago. “Um, your five o’clock appointment’s here, Mr. Winchester.” Five o’clock? Had he seriously been talking to Luke for two hours? _And_ skipped lunch without noticing?

“I better get going, then,” the Novak replied before Sam could even react. He had a soft smile on his face and looked two seconds away from winking. Oh, hell, no. The brunet would be damned if he wasn't the first to make a move in his own office.

“I'd love to continue this conversation,” he said, and Luke nodded. “Over dinner,” he added smoothly. Luke eyes widened for a heartbeat, and Sam took pride in that tiny moment of victory over the other’s composed attitude. “Tonight at eight?”

The blond’s soft smile became a flirty smirk. “It’s a date, Mr. Winchester.” With soundless steps, he walked past a slack-jawed Becky and out of the office.

Sam’s secretary stared at him in disbelief before asking, “Did you just… ask your sworn enemy… out… on a _date_?”

“He's not my sworn enemy!” Sam frowned. “I think.”

Becky laughed her way back to her desk.


End file.
